Joe steppedback and admired her outfit. He reached for the zip on her slutty little pvc skirt and opened it up more thanhalf way. Emma made no attempt to zip it back down again. “You remember my husband from the deckingjob last summer?” she asked them. They both said “Yeah, hi.” and went back to flirting with Em.Over the next hour and a bit I saw Emma go out to Terry's van with both Wes and Joe, separately. She alsospent time groping and flirting audaciously with a young Arabic looking guy on one of the couches beforealso going out to the van with him!By 1am Emma seemed ready to go. She came over to where I was propped up at the bar, gave my cock arather hard squeeze and said “If you want sloppy 7th's take me home...or is it 8th's? 9th's? I've kind of lostcount cucky!”She spent most of the journey home gently rubbing my crotch, careful not to let me cum. We went straightinto the bedroom and Em straddled my face on the bed. “Do your duty before I let you cum!” she said as shepulled. She had to find an antidote to her son's pheromones, and soon. Her children's life was already messed up, but perhaps she could save them from further mistakes. Perhaps she could save herself.She knew that somehow she was immune to it when Harold wore the substance, but not with her son. Why was that? Thinking of Harold got her blood boiling. The bastard had stolen her work, used the synthesized pheromones SHE had created from her own son, and then blackmailed her into allowing him to pass everything off as his own. She wanted to wring his neck, chop him into a thousand different pieces, feed him to the lions at the zoo, and laugh as they shit him back out.Carol froze. Was that it? Was that what made her immune? Her anger and loathing of the man was strong. Perhaps it was what allowed her to withstand his advances, and the substance. But how was she to use that with her son? She didn't hate him. She loved him. Loved him dearly. Didn't she want to hold him to her; wrap him in her arms,.
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